There was always that moment in movies where someone, usually the hero, walks into a trap, stops, and has a moment to glance around. It's the 'it's quiet, too quiet' moment, and it often made Tony's heart droop a bit to watch it. It meant that something intense and dangerous was about to happen. Sometimes scary.

As Camelot was hopping from one roof to a lower one, he felt that slump in his chest. That feeling of dread, knowing something bad was going to happen. He landed hard on the other side of the relatively small gap, his armor echoing from the rattling blow. He straightened up, looking around.

He couldn't feel anything now.

Was that the feeling, he wondered, that those characters in the movie got as well? Or what they were supposed to feel, if they were real, and the audience was just made to feel it for them? It was worse, he decided, in real life, where the threat is invisible and the context was missing.

At home, on his couch, there was no danger. He was connected to nothing but an image on the screen, and if the phone rang in that moment he'd forget about whatever dread or danger he had been feeling and pick it up to talk about his corgi and agree to go meet someone somewhere, or whatever it was.

Camelot moved to the edge of the roof, looking down to the streets below, scanning the pavement and pondering things. Something told him to hang out in the area, and he would follow that instinct, at least.